Catching Bullets in Our Teeth
by skipari
Summary: Mafia!stuck Dualeri. NSFW for Violence/eventual sexual encounters/its the mafia what more do you want from me. Will be a chapter fanfic and updated sporadically.


Smoke veiled the entirety of the room, filling it with noxious fumes as the patrons continued to puff on their cheap cigars. Only bits of conversations could be heard around the luxurious room, hushed tones of even more hushed business. Shady under the table deals, this joint was littered with all kind of folk who mixed in with the worst of the crowds. But all the hush dies down and all eyes move to focus on the center stage. Hoots and hollers coming to range the room as the first of many woman stepped on stage. Young and beautiful, smart too you'd imagine, but low on funds like the rest of the population. Money. It drove people to do hideous acts upon themselves, to sell their own bodies for even a little portion of it. When all they needed it for was the essentials to living. It was sickening. A few of the more hands on customers were right there next to the stage tossing bills like wild lust filled animals. Pigs they were, and pigs they were going to be at the slaughter once you were done with them. Most ended up on the Boss's bad side at some point. You'd have your business with them.

Tonight was a hit job. Bad business was not business the Don wanted. So, a few loose ends needed to be cleared up, so that a more reliable source to take up the slack and bring business back up for the family. Being a Caporegime meant you handled a lot of hits similar to this, not that you truly minded. You got your hard earned cash for cleaning up others messes. It all worked out in the end. But at times it was almost a tedious task to hunt down these sickening slobs and dispose of them cleanly. You'd been doing the job long enough being caught was not even on your list of worries. Corrupting cops was easy, a little dough every now and then and they'd do whatever you damn well pleased. Not like they didn't mind that you were taking down the same scum they had every intention of wanting gone as well. It worked well both ways.

Pulling the cigar back you lazily let smoke flit from lips, brown gaze never once leaving the target. A very burly man, balding mostly and was wearing what seemed to be quite a nice suit for such a slummed down area. He didn't fit in this crowd of run down wrecks. A woman was gracefully perched over his lap now, taking drunken kisses from him, letting thick fingers run up and down thighs. Getting a feel for what he felt was his just because he'd tossed a few bills in her direction. Your lip curls at this. Poor dame did not deserve such hideous and disgraceful treatment.

A few of the other women stalk your way. Clad scantily, yet covering all the goods. It was good money that they drove to see their prizes. Gorgeous beings they were, but so wasted in this slum. Hands trail down to rub at your shoulders, as if to ease the tenseness in them. Murmuring low and wanting in your ears, it was enough to drive any man to wanting them, and if you weren't on a mission you'd probably fall for their lustful attraction. Slipping them a few bills you send them off with a wink. Some other time could be play time, right now was business, and business always came first.

The hours droned on they seemed. A sip of whiskey here and there, a couple more cigars sucked down to fill your already smoke laden lungs. Watching idly as patron after patron left the area, until there were only a few remained in the dimly lit room. The wait finally screeched to a halt as your target finally rose. Inebriated to the brim, and taking his leave with a woman tacked onto his arm like some goddamn trophy. Rising, you pull the leather and fur rimmed jacket around your shoulders and exit the joint, leaving the warmth of inside to the frigidness of out.

It was a shady part of town, littered with poverty. Only those on hard times and in need of a little moral boost that came in the form of narcotics, alcohol, and prostitution. Drug dealers ruled this neighborhood, and it wasn't unheard of to hear a murder or twenty popping up around here. Buzzed fools were always too damn trigger happy it seemed. But in your situation this was by far the perfect set up for a crime, and one that would never get solved. Who would question if the idea of a drug deal gone bad made it to the media, no one would give a shit.

Pulling your cap to shield your eyes you give pursuit, slowly though. No need to raise alert, though you very much doubted he'd even pay any notice to you if you did take a run at him, too damn interested in his woman and with his mind as buzzed as it was. Reaction time would be slowed greatly. He should have been better prepared for this. Spitting on the Don's reputation and business was never treated lightly.

He continued his drunken escapade for another four blocks, stumbling and droning on about what he'd do with the poor dame once he got her inside. She looked none too pleased at any of this, and promptly gave some bullshitted reason to get away. Smart girl, you can't help but think as she scampers off back to where she came, leaving him disgruntled in the doorway. Now pissed he fumbles with keys, fingers deadened by the alcohol to actually open the door properly, giving plenty of time for you to slip up behind, blade coming into play as it came to press horizontally against his throat. A whispered threat and he was practically butter in your hands.

A pig for slaughter was always a coward, no backbone when given a threat they could not handle. They'd do nothing but squeal and run away in terror. Fucking pathetic. So easily he allows you to drag him off to nearby alley, fingers firmly grasped around that slimy thick throat of his, keeping him pinned to the wall. Feeling the gulp of air as he frantically began to plead for release. Bargaining with money and half assed promises to do better with his racket, as if he could fix the mistakes he had already made. Tightening your hold to shut him up, taking a moment to speak, and once you do it comes out near a whisper.

**"Boss wants ya outta the picture, bub. Ain't my choice in the long run, though won't lie and say I'm goin' to be displeased with yer absence. Gives me better business, and if I'm correct a bigger share than what I'm currently gettin'. It's just business, ya should know that."**

Eyes bulge as the pressure around his throat increases, stopping any sounds of panic he may be able to squeal out. With the other hand the blade was driven in fast and efficiently, angled into the side of his throat, and for good measure given a twist. Releasing him you watch his pitiful attempts to staunch the blood flow, only to watch it ooze from his fingers. Staining the once luxurious clothing and to pool below him. This wasn't a quick death, you'd wanted to see him suffer. To see that last glimpse of horror as it was snuffed out of him.

Pulling out another cigar you silently light it as he bleeds out, puffing out the acrid smoke as one aim final kick to his face ends it all. Sending blood and his head back to smack against the concrete. It was a harsh sound, but with that he was finally stilled over in death. Tapping him once more before deeming him well dead, and even if he was still somehow alive, he'd choke on his own life force. Good fucking riddance.

Leaving the alley you return to your vehicle a short distance away. Revving the engine up and setting off for the compound. It wasn't a far drive to Long Beach, and you were soon exiting the vehicle and entering into the building. Slipping the coat off, leaving it hanging on the hook as you rounded the corner to the main room, rolling up your sleeves as you entered. A few of the underlings glance up and then back to each other, resuming quietly with their conversations. Approaching the door on the other side of the room, bringing knuckles to rap against the surface, a small warning to who lied inside that you were coming in.

**"It's a me boss."**

The distinct sound of the chair swiveling around marks for you to bow your head respectfully to the Don. Closing the door with a soft click you raise your gaze to him again, and with a wave of his hand you take seat in front of the desk. Immediately being tossed into interrogation, and readily you offer up every sliver of detail you can. Explaining how you'd got there, who had been present, how the execution had taken place and where the body was still located. Seeming pleased by what you've offered he pulls forth a cigar and passes it to you, nodding slowly before speaking again.

**"As of now I don't have much else for you to do, beyond making sure the businesses keep their end up the bargain and the other Families are kept way off our tail. Been stepping closer to our territory than I like, I'm expecting raids soon. The think they can just waltz in and take over our businesses, tch.**

**Why I've decided to pull in a few new boys to the Family, they're green and need some training, and being the finest of my men…. I leave you the duty of one. You trained under me, son, and I expect him to be as efficient as you. Goes by the name of Erik, plucked him out of the gutter earlier today, seemed to have gotten in some sort of scuffle. Kid can throw a mean punch, and I think with some direction and being brought in will do well for him.**

**Now off with you. I'm expecting another soon. "**

Nodding in acceptance of this task again you dip your head once more in respect, taking the extended hand to plant a kiss to it. You wouldn't say you were enthused about taking on a rookie; they came to the Family cocky, green around the gills, already on the mindset they know what the hell they're doing. That's how they ended up six feet under fast. Scoffing softly the door is closed once more with a click, attention once again resting on the men relaxing on the faux leather couches.

**"Which one a ya is Erik?"**

Silence draws on, not one gaze coming to meet you own, finally one moves himself. A younger kid, looked around 19 or 20 in age. Slicked back black hair, a nice enough suit looked a little rough (most likely borrowed you guessed). Was holding a nice shiner to his right eye, black and purple and looked pretty puffed up. Kid must have taken a good beating. Approaching you he offers a piece of paper, mumbling under his breath.

**"Was told to give these to you."**

Hold it up right there. Smacking the papers aside, gaze narrowing.

**"Don't want 'em kid. They're where I'm supposed ta take ya, and I'm assumin' it's the Baker street apartments. Which, I again assume that since I'm the one yer takin' orders from for a while, yer comin' ta share my flat with me. Like we'd let some rook out on his own ta do his own thing just yet.**

**Now get yer shit and meet me out back in the car. Got five minutes before I'm leavin' and if ya ain't there then tough luck for ya, kid, ya can walk. "**

He seemed to balk at you for a moment, mouth dropping like some stunned fish. You half expect him to blubber out some retort, but, thankfully for him he seemed to have half a brain and shut it. Leaving without word to go get his things as instructed. Good boy, he was learning fast already. Exiting the building you reenter your vehicle and wait, which, in truth was not a long one. He still had two minutes to spare as he bundled into the car, holding the suitcase on his lap. Which you promptly remove it from him, tossing it back and out of the way, damn thing was bulky as shit. What was he bringing with him?

"Buckle up and shut up. I've had a long night and I don't care ta hear about yer life and all its little minor problems, or how damn excited ya are ta be joinin' us. We'll talk in the mornin', until then we're going ta the flat and I'm tossin' ya inta yer room, kid."

**"Can I at least have your name? Not enthused about this either but I'd at least like to know that much."**

**"Oskar, names Oskar. Now that's your one and only question for the rest a this time."**

And so it began. The apprentice you never wanted to take on. At least he listened well enough so far. The drive went by uneventful, the car not filled with the monotonous conversation, instead with the quiet sounds of music. Upon reaching the flat you toss the bags at him and lead the way to your home. It wasn't the most luxurious of places, but compared to most others it was a damn mansion. Kid seemed pretty impressed, admiring the room before you're ushering him off. He'd have time for that later. Right now you wanted rest and that was exactly what you were going to do.

Tomorrow was going to be a big day for him.


End file.
